The Filmwriter and the Songmaker
by JennMel
Summary: It can be really surprising what gives a couple away. Nevertheless, not even Mark and Roger expected their beloved camera and guitar to be the ones to betray them to the world. Maybe they should have taken Angel into account... MarkRoger pairing.


Author Notes: Hi! This is my first RENT fic, mainly because I only saw the movie a little over a week ago, and have never had the pleasure of seeing the stage show. That doesn't mean I'm any less hooked though! Seriously, I didn't know I could get obsessed this quickly... This particular oneshot is dedicated to Chemical _Nova who not only introduced me to RENT, but also came up with the prompt :) In case you didn't know, this is slash, but nothing heavily explicit.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. The title is a play on words from the song 'What You Own', and all characters belong to Jonathan Larson.

**The Filmwriter and the Songmaker**

Every group of friends has a certain set of understandings, of the dos and don'ts that shape the way each person interacts with the others. It was understood as a certainty, for example, that Maureen had been born without an internal censor, and that anything coming out of her mouth should not be taken to heart. Similarly, there were layers and boundaries – or lack of, in many cases. Innate ways in which the Bohemians slotted together to create a whole, shifting and changing with the times. As April faded, Benny broke away, the dynamics melded to accommodate, allowing Angel, Joanne and Mimi to fit in as if they had always been there. Angel was especially good at that, but then, unlike the others, she actually _saw_ these little nuances, rather than taking them as writ...

"Roger must be in then." Collins noted as they climbed the creaky stairs to the loft. The soft sound of plucked strings floated down towards him and Angel. He wrinkled his nose, "I didn't think he played some of his really old stuff anymore."

Angel laughed, "Well, with those bum notes, it's no wonder!" She rapped on the door, and the music stopped abruptly.

"It's open!" Mark's voice came through, slightly muffled by the decrepit door. He smiled when the pair entered, "Hey guys, what's up?"

Angel grinned, flopping daintily – a feat only she could achieve – next to the filmmaker on the sofa, "We wondered if you wanted to join us for some lunch; got a bonus this morning." She grinned cheekily, a spark in her eye that Mark had learnt to become suspicious of.

Collins frowned, "Where's Roger?"

Mark winced, "Saving me from one of Maureen's revolutions. She called this morning when I was still asleep, and Roger took the bullet. I will really owe him for this one; Maureen in early morning mode is not exactly an easy conversationalist."

"But we heard him playing..." Collins said this slowly, as if Mark was being purposefully obtuse. He blinked as Mark blushed slightly and ducked his head.

Angel grinned, coming to his rescue, "I don't think we were hearing Roger, honey. Right Mark?"

Collins gaped at the pair of them, "Do you have a death wish? Roger doesn't let people _touch _his guitar, let alone play it!"

Mark was only able to shrug helplessly, reaching around the side of the sofa and picking up Roger's baby, rising to put it away in its case, "I'm not even good." He snorted, "I can only play Roger's old stuff, and even that's pretty poor. It only sounds passable because Roger wrote it."

Collins just stared, "But-"

"It's not that big a deal!" Angel came to Mark's rescue, or at least, so it seemed, until she continued, "Mark's the same with his camera."

Mark's fingers slipped on the case clasps as his body jerked slightly and his head whipped up to stare at Angel, blue eyes wide and searching.

Collins remained oblivious, "Exactly! We're not allowed to pick it up, and I don't think I've ever seen you stay still long enough for us to even get a second of you on film. Even Maureen struggles. As far as you're concerned, _no one_ should touch your camera!"

"Except Roger." Angel put in slyly.

"Except Roger." Collins conceded, "Wait, _what?_ Since when?"

"Why are you making such a big deal, guys?" Mark folded his arms, sitting back down, this time on the arm of the loft's only comfy chair.

Angel waved her hand dismissively, "Nonchalance isn't something you can pull off, sweetheart." She returned to Collins as Mark threw up his arms in defeat, "After Maureen's protest at Life. Roger kept filming Mark. Hell, Mark even _smiled_ when he did it!"

"I did not!" Both ignored the other man.

"But...but..." And then Collins paused as his brain finally kicked into gear despite the cold of the New York winter, eyes widening in tandem with Angel's smirk, "No way!"

Both turned to Mark, who looked between each of them in turn, folding his arms defensively, fingers entwined in the ever-present scarf. His eyes flicked between the faces of his two friends; Angel's knowing gentle smile, Collins' smugly growing grin, "Oh man, Maureen is gonna roast you both alive from keeping this a secret. You're in more danger than Roger though..."

"There's no damn secret! Angel, tell him! Whatever, whatever you're trying to infer, you're completely wrong. Definitely."

Angel quirked an eyebrow, "How can you know if you don't know what we've discovered?"

Mark stared, before letting his head drop in confusion, "I have no idea what is happening anymore. That did not make _any_ sense."

Collins folding his arms, shifting his weight to one foot, a smirk resting across his features, "Then let me translate – how long have you and Roger been shagging?"

Mark groaned in defeat, while Angel slapped her boyfriend on the arm, "Collins! Don't be crude. They've been a couple since I've known them. Any idiot could see that. I've just been waiting for confirmation."

Mark sighed, realising there really was no escape from this, "We've been together since a little after Maureen dumped me, actually. A couple of weeks before you came back to town, Collins."

"But Mimi..." Collins began.

"Please, didn't you see the look Mark gave Roger when he took Mimi outside at Life that night?" Angel snorted, "Honey, I love you, and you are one of the smartest people I know, but sometimes you are just _dense_."

"Mimi's the only one who knows about us." Mark admitted, before grinning crookedly. "Roger had to tell her to stop after all the times she kept coming onto him. Apparently it made him '_uncomfortable'_. I just found it funny."

"I can't believe you told Mimi before me!" Collins protested.

"Oh, get over it." Angel laughed, rising to stand next to Mark, throwing her arm around his slight shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze, knowing what was in the filmmaker's head. Sure enough...

"So, you're both okay with this?" Mark asked tentatively.

Collins finally sat down on the now vacated sofa, "Are you kidding, Cohen? I've been waiting for you two to shack up since Benny moved out. You've both been holding out long enough. I'd given up hope to the extent I'd stopped looking for any signs...damn."

"_What?_" Mark spluttered.

Angel grinned, ruffling his hair, "Sorry honey. If it makes you feel better, I don't think your ex knows."

"It doesn't." Mark deadpanned. He then paused and rethought, "No, wait, actually, it really does."

"Is that why you guys never said anything?" Collins asked.

Mark shrugged, "There just wasn't a right time. I dunno, we just sorta, didn't."

Angel rolled her eyes, "Typical."

The door slammed, and the other half of the discussion subject breezed into the room, "Mark, I swear, Joanne has to be the most patient woman in the world. She should get a medal." He paused, taking in the room, "Hey guys – when'd you get here?"

Collins grinned widely, "A little while ago. We were gonna invite you guys for lunch."

Roger blinked, eyes moving from Collins to the odd position of Mark and Angel. Angel being draped over someone wasn't a particularly strange occurrence; she was a very huggy person. But Mark's expression? What the hell? "Uh...someone wanna fill me in here?"

Angel extricated herself from Mark and strode up to Roger so that they were nearly nose to nose, before stating clearly, and with a completely straight face, "If you hurt him, you'll have me to deal with."

Roger just stared, and then Collins provided the answer to the puzzle in a decidedly less threatening way from his lolling position on their sofa. He waved his hand in Mark's direction, "Yeah, same message I guess. You hurt Roger, et cetera, et cetera."

"Oh no..." Roger winced, looking to Mark for confirmation.

"Oh yeah." Mark replied.

Angel's face broke into a grin as she looped her arms around Roger's neck in a hug, "This has so made my day!" She dropped back down, wrenching Collins off the sofa and kissing Mark on the cheek, "We'll leave you two lovely boys alone."

"What about food?" Collins yelped as his hand was stolen from him.

"Are you kidding? This is a dinner celebration thing. Cat's out of the bag, and all those other clichés. Life, 8pm. Be there, or we'll set Benny on you."

Collins grinned helplessly, "What she said. Roge – we'll talk tonight!" And like a tornado, they were gone.

"Did that just happen, or did Maureen's company cause me to hallucinate?" Roger pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to assimilate what had happened in the short time since he had come through the door.

Mark bit his lip, "I'm sorry. They heard me playing your guitar, and _somehow_, Angel just, sort of, worked it out. I think you and my camera were also to blame at one point."

Roger laughed at the absurd way in which Angel's mind worked, running his hand through his hair, before he paused, noticing Mark hadn't joined in, eyes still trained on his lover. Roger shirked off his jacket, throwing it on the side table before sitting down in their lone armchair, pulling Mark down from the arm to join him. He slipped his arms around the other man's slim waist, kissing his neck before reconnecting their eyes, "You're okay with this, right?"

Mark gave a half-shrug, dropping his eyes to focus on his fingers as they once more wound through his scarf. "I guess. I mean, yeah, yeah, I think I am. I suppose I just got so used to it just being us that I forgot that at one point everyone else would join us in the bubble."

Roger laughed softly, using his hands to still Mark's unconscious habit, "Well, I'd hope not completely."

Mark frowned, and then snorted, a grin spreading across his face, "I didn't mean that!"

"Really? You sure? There's not some secret fantasy I should know about here, is there?" Roger teased.

Mark smiled good-naturedly, twisting in Roger's lap, "Oh shut up." He followed through his command by capturing Roger's lips with his own.

Roger moaned as they broke apart, foreheads resting together. "Yep, I might just be able to do that."

Mark smirked, quickly kissing Roger again, before he groaned as something hit him, causing him to bury his head against Roger's neck. Roger frowned, "What?"

"Maureen."

"Ah." Roger conceded sympathetically. And then an idea struck him, "Well, if we go by Angel's logic, we could always go to Life early and have me film you playing one of my songs for her to see us when she arrives."

There was a pause, until Mark's shoulders shook a little as he started laughing uncontrollably, a sound Roger would pay to hear, "You're evil."

"Might make her speechless though. We'd be creating a landmark event in history."

"She'll try to take credit for 'turning me gay'."

"Well, then after Joanne you'd be even, wouldn't you?"

"Roger! I've known I was bi longer than you have! And I'm not sure Maureen can even be put into a category..." Mark laughed.

"Mark. Seriously, it'll all be fine. No one will care! Well, they will, but not for the reasons you've been worried about, so there is really no reason on this earth why you should have stopped kissing me."

"That right?" Mark smirked, leaning forward to bite Roger's lower lip before pulling back, wriggling his way out of his boyfriend's arms and rising to his feet, dragging Roger with him. He pressed their bodies flush together as he leaned up to capture a deep, sharp kiss, causing Roger to exhale with a catch of breath when they pulled apart.

Roger matched Mark's smile as he found his fingers captured, leading him away, "Definitely."

**FIN**

Author Notes: I'd love to know any of your thoughts! Thanks!


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